An old-fashioned romantic with a penchant for hate-fucking my romance at you. No other way feels right. Because no other way feels honorable.
You see, in my mind, you have become the Story. The first thought in the morning. The last in the evening. The song I sing.
The only way I show you are in total physical and emotional annihilation of your senses. Stare into your beautiful eyes while I flood your valley with an orgasmic tsunami.
Bad-temper fuck my angry passionate heaven as our bodies meet in time I see the look in your shaking legs and screaming face as you cum, cum, cum, and cum again.
Completely wiped the fuck out from the fingering that led to a squirt, the eating your pussy that led to a spastic kick, and the hands around your neck fucking that led to your current state – orgasm recovery in a huddled mass on the ground, unable to move, mumbling “fuck” and “oh my God” like that is all you know how to say.
You are welcome. Remember, I am a romantic. I need to show you in the most violent but caring way possible.
I think I just did.